PLACING THESE FLOWERS HERE
Placing these flowers here,
not one or two but three,
thrushed by a single song
they are simplicity.
Placing nothing here
the perfume is sickening faint.
You are towards that end
where the world is one with taint,
and I am the god that grows
a blackening buckle of tree,
but flowers are freshly placed
and they are simplicity,
and I am a turgid man,
my god is ingrown with taint;
I have picked him up from the dark
where a swoon of sweet lights faint,
but because my world is you
and because I cannot be
thrushed by a single song
through to simplicity,
and because my mind is feint
and I am the feint of you,
it is pointless now to hammer the wings
of a fluttering life that grew
out of the treasures in both of us
and you who are mingling me
in a dusk as tremulous for dawn
as a slave for liberty.
I have noticed the cloudy intercourse
of the flowery sky and the earthen tree
thrushed by formidable song
though never by ‘cere simplicity.
(from “”Love” Poems For Kathy / Green. Laced. Leaves”)
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